


The Change of Heart Job

by AliceInKinkland



Category: Leverage
Genre: Case Fic, Discussion of Abortion, Gen, Multi, Polyamory, Semi-established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 02:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8826235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceInKinkland/pseuds/AliceInKinkland
Summary: The team takes on a crisis pregnancy centre with shady advertising practices, and Parker, Hardison, and Eliot try to navigate their newly-established relationship.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This started because I wanted to write about Parker in a sexual health clinic, and then it became a lot of things I didn't expect--more political (but hopefully not didactic?), more angsty (but also more silly)--so I don't know what this is any more but here you go y'all!

“So you want our help to, what, make this guy pack up shop?” Nate crosses his arms. Eliot opens up his body language in response, shooting the woman across from them his most non-threatening smile.

“Maybe. I mean, yes, but only if you can guarantee that what you do won’t be able to be tied back to the clinic in any way. I know they couldn’t afford that kind of scandal.”

“We’ll think abou--” says Nate, at the same time as Eliot elbows him in the ribs and says, “Ma’am, we’ll take the case.”

* * *

“Suzanne Li,” says Hardison, once everyone has assembled in the brewpub back room. “Close friends with Amanda Moskowitz, executive director of Choice for All Portland.” He pulls up a picture on the screen beside him of two women at a fundraising gala dinner, and one of an unassuming brown brick building somewhere downtown.

“Choice for All is a sexual health clinic,” Hardison continues. “They provide STI testing, gynecological exams, programming for young parents, an anonymous helpline, an LGBTQ youth group, lots of stuff. Also abortions, which is why they’re in trouble, although I guess all those things could get them in trouble with some people, really. Anyway. Six months ago, this place opened up right across the street.” Hardison pulls up a picture of another building, newer, the shiny glass windows tinted with images of smiling women, several with babies. “Right Choice,” says Hardison.

“Another clinic? Across the street?” says Sophie.

Hardison shakes his head. “That’s where you’d be wrong. Right Choice is a ‘crisis pregnancy centre,”” he says, drawing air quotes with his fingers. “OK, so picture this: you’re young, you’re pregnant, your baby daddy’s nowhere in sight. You don’t know what to do. Then, you see this ad on the bus one morning.” 

Hardison pulls up a bus ad featuring a woman with her head in her hands beside the words  _ Pregnant? Scared? Don’t know what to do? We’ll help you make the Right Choice. _ Underneath the text is a number and address.

“So you go to this place, right? And you tell yourself, they’ll tell me my options, and then I’ll be informed. Or maybe you already know you don’t want to be pregnant anymore, and you figure this place can help with that. You go, and it looks nice--friendly, bright, no protesters.”

Eliot nods. “But then you get inside and they tell you all about how your baby already has a heartbeat.”

“And how they  _ really  _ don’t want to see you become a baby murderer,” says Hardison. “And I spent too much time last night looking at their ‘counselling tools,’ and trust me, you do  _ not  _ wanna see the pictures they use to back up these points.”

“So you leave emotionally blackmailed into keeping the baby,” says Sophie, shaking her head.

“But guys,” says Nate, and four pairs of eyes turn to look at him. “Obviously this is very skeevy,” he says, gesturing to the ad on the screen, “but don’t you think it’s still important, if someone’s in this, you know, situation, for them to think about the, uh, ethical side of things?”

“Nope,” says Parker immediately. “It’s their body.” She turns to Eliot and Hardison. “Right?”

“Right, baby,” says Hardison, and Eliot nods.

“Good,” says Parker, “because I would definitely have an abortion, and you--” she makes an  _ I’m watching you  _ gesture at first Eliot, then Hardison, “would have to be OK with that.”

“We sure are, babe. Totally on board. Now,” Hardison does jazz hands in the direction of the screen, “can we get back to why we’re here?”

Nate looks towards Sophie with a questioning expression. She nods. He closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them and nods back, squeezing her hand. 

“You over your Catholic freak out, man?” says Eliot.

“I--yes. Sorry. Go on,” Nate waves in the direction of Hardison’s continued jazz hands.

“OK!” says Hardison. “So this is the guy who owns Right Choice.” He pulls up a picture of a man at what is presumably a different gala, smiling broadly while holding a cheque. “Mike Hart, chair of an organization called Life America. His org is responsible for opening a whole chain of crisis pregnancy centres across the Pacific Northwest. Every city they go to, their MO is the same: open one of these CPCs as close as possible to a legitimate abortion clinic, name it something similar enough to be confusing, and start placing those ads of theirs all over town.”

“OK, so we sabotage the Right Choice place, maybe bankrupt the organization?” says Sophie.

Eliot shakes his head. “Not so fast. Suzanne Li came to us because she knows her friend Amanda is stressed and angry, but she also knows they can’t risk the bad publicity of doing anything to really fight Right Choice. They organize counter-protests sometimes, and they’re trying to scrape together money for a legal battle, but it’s not going to be enough to stop this place. So Suzanne asked us to intervene but only if we can do so in a way that could never possibly be linked to the clinic.”

“So what I’m thinking is the King Cobra,” says Nate.

“Too many moving pieces,” says Sophie.

“Also don’t we need a castle for that one?” says Parker.

“Man, you gotta let me finish,” says Hardison. “This guy is doing more than just manipulating people while they ride the bus. Recently, he hired this guy--” he puts another smiling man’s picture up behind him--“marketing consultant Jeff Collins, to develop a truly creepy new advertising strategy using something called ‘geofencing.’

“It’s basically micro-targeting your ads based on phone location data. It’s actually pretty elegant--but creepy! So creepy! Eliot, stop staring at me like that, I might not believe in privacy but I get that it’s creepy!”

Eliot raises a disbelieving eyebrow, but says nothing. 

Hardison continues, “How it works is, imagine you’re the same scared, pregnant teenager as before. You don’t see the Right Choice ad on the bus, and your friend tells you about Choice for All, so you go there. You’re pretty sure you want to end the pregnancy, but you’re feeling a bit guilty, worried you’re a bad person, whatever. You go into the clinic, and you’re sitting in the waiting room, so you pull out your phone, read a little fanfiction--what? That’s just an  _ example,  _ Eliot, a  _ random example  _ of something  _ some people might do _ .”

“Right,” says Eliot.

“So you open up your phone’s browser, and you get an ad that says something like, ‘Considering abortion? Get all the facts.’ You click on it, and it goes to the Right Choice website.”

“They’re marketing to people when they’re already inside the clinic. They’re specifically targeting their marketing to people inside the clinic,” says Sophie.

Hardison nods.

“And that’s legal?”

He nods again. “Legal but expensive, but he has the money. Life America has several powerful private funders, and also regularly raises massive amounts through crowdfunding campaigns advertised on anti-abortion Facebook pages and right-wing talk radio. They’re running a fundraising drive right now, actually.” He pulls up financial statements on one side of the screen, and a donation website in the other, the tracking bar almost halfway to a $10,000 goal.

“OK,” says Nate. “Here’s what we’re going to do. If we try to steal his money, he’ll just get more funds from all these backers, and quite possibly cast suspicion on Choice for All. Unless we convince his backers that Mike Hart is not the anti-abortion crusader they think he is. We need to make a video about his ideological change of heart. His...change of Hart, if you will.”

“How are we gonna give him a change of heart?”

“We’re not, Parker. We’re just going to get enough out-of-context quotes from him to make a 2-minute video about his fabricated change of heart.” He slaps the table. “Let’s go steal an opinion.”

* * *

“Mr Hart? Your 2 o’clock is here.”

Mike Hart looks up from his computer to see his receptionist Linda standing in the doorway to his office.

“I didn’t know I had any appointments today,” he says, frowning. 

“I didn’t either, sir, but they’re here, and they’re in your calendar.”

“Who’s here?”

“Tim and Franca...something or other. They say they’re here from some mission newsletter? To do an interview?”

Mike sighs. “Send them in.”

* * *

When Eliot pushes open the door to Choice for All, a little doorbell rings above his head and the five people sitting in the waiting room turn to stare at him and Parker. “You OK?” he whispers to her. She nods, but her body language is more awkward that is usually is lately as they enter the clinic.

“Hi there,” says the receptionist. “Can I help you with anything?”

Parker has started methodically taking one of each of the at least three dozen pamphlets lining one wall of the waiting area, so Eliot approaches the counter. “We’re here for STI testing,” he says, running his hands along the edge of the counter, searching for a spot to plant the device they’ve come to install.

“Take these forms, fill them out. The wait’s about an hour right now, that OK?” 

“Sure,” says Eliot, turning so he can survey the other walls of the room. 

He goes over to Parker. She’s clutching a whole stack of pamphlets now; the top one reads  _ What’s Happening to my Body? A Guide to Puberty Changes for Boys.  _ Eliot motions to two seats off in one corner, far enough away from the other clinic clients that they won’t be overheard. She nods and follows.

He hands her one of the forms, and they both pretend to study theirs while continuing to glance around the room. After a moment, she starts to fill it out, writing “Alice” under “First Name” so she has an excuse to drop her pen and kneel down to examine the floor behind the chairs.

“I found the spot,” says Parker, sitting back down beside Eliot. “Show me the thing again?” Eliot pulls out his wallet and opens it to reveal a thin strip of plastic and wires, the size of a business card and only slightly thicker. He hands her a health insurance plan information card to justify the action to any onlookers, and Parker takes the card and starts copying things down in the appropriate boxes of the clinic form.

“There’s space between the floorboard and the wall, we could put this in. No one will notice it there.”

Eliot nods. “This had better work, Hardison.”

“I guarantee it,” says Hardison over the coms. “It’ll block any of Hart’s ads from reaching the people in the clinic, but spoof enough clicks that no one on his end will be able to tell anything’s up. And did you see how thin that thing is? Did you see? Stayed up all night making that, and I know, you don’t have to tell me, it’s a thing of beauty.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” says Eliot, palming the device inconspicuously to Parker, who drops her form  _ and  _ pen this time, right where the floor meets the wall so she has an excuse to crawl all the way under the chair.

She gives Eliot a thumbs up as she emerges. “I’m glad I’m not Alice most of the time,” she says, staring critically at the half-completed form. “Sometimes it’s fun to pretend to be normal, but not so much now that I have two boyfriends because that is not normal so I can’t be normal  _ and  _ dating you both at once.”

Eliot smiles. “Well right now you sure can, because we need Alice’s other boyfriend to give us a call so we have a good excuse to get out of here.”

“On it,” says Hardison, and Parker’s phone rings.

“Hi, this is Alice, I’m Alice,” says Parker. As she and Eliot turn to leave, she shoves the stack of pamphlets under her arm.

* * *

“Well, that could have gone better,” says Nate when he and Sophie are back in their car. 

“That was a complete disaster! We didn’t get him to say anything we could possibly twist for this video.” Sophie slaps Nate’s hand away from the driver’s-side door. “No, I’m driving, I hate how you drive when the con’s not going well.”

“Hardison,” says Nate into his earpiece, walking grudgingly around to the passenger seat, “How about the old interview clips you’ve been going through? Anything useful there?”

“Nothing. He must have the best PR coach in the country. Everything he says is a totally on-message soundbite.”

“He’s un-smearable,” says Sophie, resting her forehead against the steering wheel.

“No one’s un-smearable,” says Nate. “Let’s regroup. We’ll be back at the brewpub in half an hour. I think there’s an even better way to do this. Eliot, Parker, what’s your status?”

“The thing’s been planted,” says Parker through the coms. 

“Yeah, Nate, we’re good to go,” says Eliot. 

“So good to go!” says Parker, and Nate and Sophie hear a rustling of paper. “Did you know there’s such a thing as flavoured condoms?”

* * *

“Alright, everyone,” says Nate. “We’re gonna need to make a few phone calls. And post a lot of Facebook reviews.”

“Ooh, you mean--” says Sophie.

“The Two-Horned Shuffle, yeah. OK, so if we can’t turn Mike Hart into a pro-choice guy, we can turn Right Choice into a pro-choice organization. Or at least, one which fosters outcomes that would be...undesirable to its donor base.”

“I have some sockpuppet Facebook accounts set aside for just this kind of thing,” says Hardison. “Let’s do this.” 

* * *

“Hey, and welcome back to Telling It Like It Is with Brad and Jim. We’ve spoken before about the great things Life America is doing to promote the rights of the unborn here in Oregon and Washington.”

“That’s right, Brad. And let’s remind our listeners that they’re doing a donation drive right now. Check out the details on their website and give what you can. I know I gave twenty bucks right this morning.”

“Jim, you know, our next caller actually had a very personal, and, it sounds, life changing experience with Right Choice, the Portland Life America centre. Caller, you’re on the air.”

“Well, I just wanted to say, it’s still hard to talk about, but Right Choice definitely helped me make the right choice for me.”

“That’s great to hear, caller. Tell me, were you unsure of what to do before you went to the Right Choice centre?”

“Yes, I was just so uninformed about what my options really were, but after talking with a counsellor at Right Choice, I realized abortion was the only option that worked for me.”

“That’s so gr--wait, what was that? Caller, I think we might be misunderstanding you.”

“I said, Right Choice is the reason I had an abortion. And let me tell you, I’m so glad I did. I was not ready to be a parent at all. Like, not one bit. I mean, I still eat cereal for basically every meal, and I can only stand, like, less than ten people in the entire world, so I mean, who’s to say I would even like my own kid? And also--OK, no, nevermind, that’s it, that’s all I wanted to say.”

“OK. Well, that’s not quite the story I was expecting, Jim. Let’s--let’s just go to our next caller. Caller, you’re on air.”

“Hi! Ted Granger here, recently moved to Portland from Oklahoma, and let me tell you, a lotta things are different here.”

“I’m sure, Ted, I’m sure I can only imagine.”

“Well, Jim, most of the changes I’m OK with. You get used to ‘em, y’know? But let me tell you, if my daughter had gotten herself knocked up back in Oklahoma City and gone to a place like Right Choice, she would not have walked out thinking she was gonna get an abortion. You know what I’m sayin’, man?”

“I--I guess I do, Ted. That’s really disappointing.”

“Disappointin’, yeah, that’s the word for it. Anyway, hope you folks have a nice day.”

“You know, Brad, I don’t know what to expect from our next caller.”

“Me either, Jim, but I think our listeners deserve to know the truth.”

“That they do, Brad, that they do. Caller, you’re on air.”

“Thank you so much. When I found out you were talking about Life America I just had to call in. I just really hope your listeners give generously to such a deserving organization.”

“Tell me about your experience there, caller.”

“Well, I found the one in Portland really informative. They talked me through all my options, and they were so understanding of what I was going through. By the end of the counselling session I had decided to end the pregnancy, and it was so easy because there’s an abortion clinic right across the street that the counsellor just pointed out to me!”

“I--see. You know, Brad, I think it might be time for a commercial break.”

“Yeah, Jim, let’s do that. Caller, thanks for sharing your story.”

* * *

“What do we do now?” says Parker.

“Hardison, you done the reviews on the Right Choice Facebook page?”

“Yep, done and backdated, and I’ve tweeted at a bunch of anti-abortion news sites under three different aliases to lead them down our breadcrumb trail.”

Nate smiles. “Then we wait.”

* * *

“Do you think it’s weird that I know for sure I wouldn’t want to be pregnant, or give birth, or have a kid?” Parker is stretching on the floor, not looking at Eliot and Hardison where they are seated, arms tentatively around each other, on the couch. They’re back in Hardison’s apartment, Nate and Sophie having left the brewpub with promises to reconvene the next day to evaluate their success.

“No,” says Eliot. He seems to want to say more, but he takes a sip of beer instead.

“But I mean, I’m glad I was born, mostly. So it’s good that I was wanted, at least before I was born.”

Hardison shakes his head. “Girl, I know I was unwanted, that’s got nothing to do with anything. My birth mom left me in the hospital as soon as she had me. I used to be angry about it, but now...I’m glad I exist, but I also wish she’d been able to make different choices if she’d wanted to.”

Parker nods solemnly. “I get it.”

“I’m glad.”

“ _ That’s _ why you had such a nice foster family. The nice ones always want babies.” Parker flips upside down, holding her weight on her forearms, and starts doing bicycle kicks with her legs in the air.

“That’s not--” Hardison turns to Eliot, who looks back at him with a horrified grimace mirroring Hardison’s own, and shrugs his shoulders helplessly.

“Let’s not talk about this anymore,” says Parker, flipping over so her feet touch the ground behind her head.

“OK. But Parker--you don’t gotta feel guilty,” says Eliot. He gets up, heads to the kitchen, starts chopping an onion with more force than necessary.

“I don’t, I just--wanted to make sure I wasn’t supposed to feel guilty. So thanks.”

Hardison watches her propel herself upwards until she’s standing, nod, and walk into the bedroom the three of them have only recently started to share. He sits back on the couch, listening to the sounds of Parker’s post-workout shower and Eliot’s cooking, and closes his eyes.

* * *

“I don’t know how to thank you enough. I can tell that seeing that Right Choice place close down has taken such a weight off Amanda’s mind. I feel a bit bad about lying to her, but I know she wouldn’t be OK with what you all did, and you know what? I am.”

Parker nods sagely. “Sometimes bad guys make the best good guys.”

“I--yeah, I guess that’s--yeah. Anyway, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” says Eliot, smiling at Suzanne as she gets up and turns to go.

Hardison punches Eliot in the arm. “You know, I thought it would bug me now that we’re all together, seeing you flirt with other people, but it’s just too damn cute.”

“Flirting? I was not flirting.”

“You did the eye thing,” says Parker.

“The eye--what eye thing? I do not have an eye thing!”

“Naw, man, you have, like, ten different eye things,” says Hardison.

Eliot glares, and Hardison gamely returns the look and turns it into a staring contest. 

It’s Parker who breaks the silence. “You guys,” she says amidst the rustling of a pamphlet being opened, “did you know that there’s more than one kind of lube?”


End file.
